The Evolving Just War Tradition (Part 3): Three Public Keys to Just War

Military
training is multifaceted. There are technical aspects that need to be
mastered such as accurately delivering munitions to a target or
flying a plane. Another side of military training is the ethics of
combat. This includes rules of engagement briefings on the lowest
level and philosophical debates on the highest level.1
For the Just War tradition, technical training is most important with
regards to noncombatant immunity. When training is denied or
under-emphasized, Walzer feels that “the inevitable consequence of
putting deadly weapons into the hands of undisciplined soldiers, and
armed men into the hands of stupid or fanatical generals” is
civilian death (130).

At
the heart of this issue are two separate concepts of accuracy, which
Himes labels “indiscriminate weapons and the indiscriminate use of
discriminate weapons” (152). On the one hand, soldiers are expected
to deliver their discriminate munitions accurately. On the other,
military brass are held accountable for not using indiscriminate
munitions in situations where noncombatant immunity can be impaired.
Indiscriminate munitions (cluster bombs, land mines, etc.) are
inherently unjust when used in situations where combatants and
noncombatants share close quarters. For reasons of aim, a well
trained standing military can in many ways be considered necessary
for a just war. A polar opposite of this would be the child soldier
who is handed an AK-47 with no more training than a viewing of a
“Rambo” movie (McCormick 121). When it comes to technical
training and the discriminate use of indiscriminate munitions, the
United States' operations in Iraq have received relatively little
criticism. The instances of civilian deaths by American fire have
usually proven to be accurately delivered discriminate munitions. At
fault was the target selection process, the only obvious remedy for
which is better military intelligence.

Concerning
the ethical training of a military, Paul Robinson, Nigel De Lee, and
Don Carrick have edited a collection of essays entitled Ethics
Education in the Military. These
essays shed light on both the importance of ethics training in the
military as well as the patchwork nature of teaching the subject in
the United States.2
Among the important questions raised in these essays are “why is
ethics training in the military important?” and “what type of
ethics should be taught?”

One answer
to the “why” question is the functional approach that believes an
ethical soldier is a “better” soldier where “better” meaning
“a more efficient killer.” A second argument for ethics training
is aspirational – soldiers are expected to leave the ethics
training as “better” people who will thus make better ethical
decisions (Robinson 161). As for the “what type” question, the
answer in the United States is almost exclusively virtue ethics. This
method aims to inculcate several virtues into the soldier such as
loyalty, respect, honor, and courage. At both West Point and the
United States Air Force Academy, virtue ethics is the predominant
form of ethics training.

I believe
the argument for virtue ethics training is less than ideal. As West
points, “West Point and other service academy graduates commit war
crimes and other offences at rates similar to less well 'bred'
soldiers” (Robinson 39). If this is true, it is all the proof
needed to put the nail in virtue ethics's coffin. The presumption
that a soldier who embodies the virtues listed above will
automatically be able to make ethical decisions on the battlefield,
often with very little time to contemplate, is fallacious. Walzer
spends over 300 pages attempting to lay out the complexities of the
Just War tradition and provides specific historical case studies
showing how these theories need real life revisions when on the
battlefield. This sort of casuist case study is, in my opinion, what
is most needed in military ethics training. Luckily, it is not
completely lacking. West mentions how cadets are exposed to case
studies throughout their four years at West Point. This facet of
their training, however, must be nominal as he only devotes one
sentence to it. In his essay on ethics training at the U.S. Air Force
Academy, Martin Cook states that supplemental training includes
day-long retreats which include “small group discussions in which
experienced officers and civilians discuss with cadets their own
real-world moral conflicts and hard cases they have encountered in
their professional lives” (Robinson 60). Cook goes on to say that
the cadets consistently rate this supplemental training as the most
valuable and enjoyable (Robinson 60). This leads one to wonder why
this small group case study format is “supplemental” and not
“core.”

An
additional oversight in the ethical training of the United States
military lies in the focus on officer training at the expense of
non-commissioned officer and enlisted training. When comparing ethics
training across countries, Jessica Wolfendale points out that “the
ethics programmes offered to non-commissioned officers . . . and
enlisted personnel, when they do occur, are usually of short duration
or non-existent” (Robinson 167). This is a problem considering the
sorts of moral dilemmas in which so many NCOs and enlisted soldiers
find themselves. In his foreword to this collection, Patrick
Cordingly noted that in the first Iraq war, the chain of command
became so stretched that “[s]oldiers, unsupervised by default,
performed tasks that they were not prepared for” (Robinson xiii).

One
would think that this lack of supervision may have been the principal
cause for atrocities like the Abu Ghraib scandal, but I believe
differently. The acts committed at Abu Ghraib were so despicable that
one need not have a training in military ethics to know that they
were grossly immoral. I believe there was another principal cause and
that it is related to the inculcation of virtue ethics. Many of the
virtues that the United States military embraces serve to create a
strong sense of camaraderie. This is especially true in institutions
such as West Point and the USAFA, but can also be found within units
that remain together for extended amounts of time – especially when
combat is involved. The desired result of this virtuous camaraderie
is a esprit de corps on
the battlefield which not only makes the soldier more efficient, but
also contributes to the “leave no man behind” spirit. A corollary
to this camaraderie, however, is the “no snitching” spirit found
at Abu Ghraib. Those who knew that what was occurring was wrong
failed to speak out immediately or were coerced into remaining
silent. Camaraderie is a two-edged sword to which continuously close
attention must be paid.

The Need for a High Quality
Press

While
the need for a high quality press is important for many topics of
national interest, this idea plays an important role specifically in
the justification of violence. Several thinkers have pointed to the
importance of the press in establishing a justifiable use of force.
Yoder believes that “[t]he person claiming to respect just-war
rationality must [study the facts of politics] . . . and therefore
must have a reliable independent source of information” (78).
Yoder's observation on the importance of the press is accurate. While
some critics oversimplify the Just War tradition to a “calculus”
which spits out a decision based on the evidence entered, the
importance of accurate data is not denied by any of its adherents.

In complex
issues such as the justification of war, the press plays a three-fold
role: (1) it provides the data mentioned above, (2) it provides
analysis of this data, (3) and it provides one of the forums used in
the public conversation I will address below. Concerning the first
role, the data the press shared concerning WMD in Iraq and the
linking of Hussein to terrorist organizations proved the most
damaging. One must wonder how these two assertions were able to “pass
muster” in a critical press that supposedly relies on multiple
sourcing. While Piers Robinson, et al, focus on the media in the
United Kingdom, they offer some salient points concerning the U.S.
media as well. For instance, they point out that journalists tend to
favor the “spin” of the political elite and therefore tend “to
be supportive of political elites . . . through the dependence of
journalists upon elite political sources” (Robinson 537). The fact
that these sources often remain anonymous further allows government
officials to “feed the news” their own version of stories – in
effect, their own data. These authors go on to point out that one
would expect the press to also rely on “other involved parties
including civilians, humanitarian organizations, antiwar movements,
and international actors such as the U.N.” but that “the relative
absence of such alternative perspectives is important in rendering
media 'vulnerable to manipulation' by officials” (Robinson 540).

Citing a
Fairness and Accuracy in Reporting study, Andrew Calabrese provides
empirical evidence that what Robinson asserted is also present in the
U.S. media. This study, which examined the principal news shows of
ABC, CBS, NBC, FNC, PBS, and CNN, found that 63% of on-air sources
were current or former government employees (Calabrese 166).
Calabrese also points to the government's use of foreign media to
knowingly disseminate inaccurate information. While they considered
this part of a “psy ops” campaign, there arose fear that “the
U.S. media would pick up disinformation from the foreign media and
publish and broadcast it to U.S. audiences” (Calabrese 163). This
shows that the government was aware of the press' penchant for
running stories without properly sourcing them and viewed the risk of
poisoning the well of U.S. news to be too great. These authors place
a great deal of importance on the inclusion of non-governmental
sources and multiple sources for an accurate press.

Concerning
the second role of the press, that of data analysis, several studies
have examined the manner in which the press has “framed” the war.
Ian Taylor uses frame analysis to examine the different ways in which
the data mentioned above is mediated through news sources. Taylor
identifies three frames each for pro-war and anti-war opinion and
notes that these frames are important “because as the main
protagonists in the debate they were the ones who drove the arguments
onwards vigorously promoting their packages as they attempted to
persuade public opinion” (85). With this in mind, one has to wonder
whether any of these three anti-war frames were present in American
media. As noted above, the main news sources in the U.S. were, if not
pro-war, decidedly not
anti-war. Taylor goes on to stress the importance of a polyvocal
press because “one of the main tests of pluralism for the
mainstream national media must be whether or not the full range of
perspectives on the conflict were articulated through the national
press when taken as a whole” (86). If one function of the press is
to help “persuade public opinion,” then this power must be held
accountable when that opinion approaches monolithic status.

In
his critical essay on both the media and the Bush administration,
Calabrese early on points out how “the major media of the United
States played a key role in uncritically projecting American
imperialism, both domestically and abroad” (155). While Calabrese's
passion at times proves overly subjective, he provides an important
argument against the commercialization of American news media. The
fact that many news outlets are now owned by large corporations
combined with the profits generated by high ratings, “the networks
went to great lengths to seamlessly blend their patriotism,
technological prowess, and professionalism, which in the long run has
the potential to yield market advantages” (Calabrese 168). Cristian
Parker Gumucio notes the same danger for newspapers: “[t]he
ownership of the written press by audio-visual corporations
encourages unthinking consumption and prevents critical analysis”
(27). The chance for increased revenue through war-time ratings as
well as the risk of losing ratings by portraying anti-war opinion
surely entered into the framing debate for national news outlets. The
risk involved in questioning the justification for war, especially
after war has already begun, is great for those in the media. In his
review of combat films, Patrick McCormick notes that “[e]arly
massive demonstrations against the war were met by rallies and
ribbons directing Americans to 'support the troops'” and that
“honor demands that Americans 'support the troops' by continuing to
wage war” (110). This equation of “anti-war” with “anti-troops”
allowed the pro-war faction to dictate the conversation and
implicitly threaten news outlets. As Calabrese states, “[c]ommercial
advertisers generally do not wish to be associated with a program
that presents, much less advocates, a minority political viewpoint”
and because of this “the mainstream U.S. media neglected to give
American citizens an adequate picture of the scale of the antiwar
movement at home or abroad” (171).

The issue of a quality press has two substantial deficits to
overcome: one being the reliance upon single anonymous sources for
stories and the other being the extent to which profit-making
dictates the conversation for national news outlets. These two are
undoubtedly related. The risk of “getting scooped” makes the time
needed to corroborate stories with multiple sources less of a
priority. Yet on issues as important as WMD, terrorist links to Iraq,
and war itself, it is the responsibility of the press to perform its
due diligence in reporting data as well as in analyzing and framing
that data responsibly.

The Need for Quality Public
Conversation

An aspect of American democracy that has shown itself to be
deficient not only in the debate leading up to the Iraq War, but in
multiple matters is the lack of quality public conversation. While
this has been apparent in subjects as diverse as presidential
elections, Wall Street bailouts, and health insurance reform, it was
specifically a problem in the debate on the justification of an
invasion of Iraq. While “discourse” and “dialog” do not
etymologically denote an either/or limitation, it is exactly this
dimorphic character that I believe is at fault for American's
inability to enter into quality conversation.

This binary nature of conversation is present even in authors who
were in the minority anti-war camp. George Weigel ends his essay with
“[w]e may be sure that the war against terror will suffer
commensurately if the Iraqi phase of the quest for freedom and a new
politics in the Arab Islamic world is frustrated. No one – in the
Congress, in the churches, in the academy, or on the street – can
wish for that and still claim the mantle of moral seriousness”
(20). This bifurcation, either you are for the continued Iraqi phase
of the War on Terror or you lack moral seriousness, is a fallacy of
false dilemma. There are other options than just these two and part
of a quality conversation is to recognize them. Whether it is due to
a two-party system or simply the dualistic nature of mankind, the
conversation on Iraq quickly became one in which all comers were fit
into the “hawk” or “dove” camp or similarly binary
pigeonholes. As Yoder points out, there is an effective, if
disingenuous, rhetorical device used where “politicians may exploit
nationalistic and xenophobic, even racist, enthusiasms of common
folk, thereby putting themselves under pressure to perform in a way
as 'patriotic' as their campaign language” (26). This sort of
rhetoric further strengthens the binary characteristic of national
conversation.

One question, therefore, is “how can the church help in creating
and supporting quality conversation on a national level?”3
Luckily, there has already been work done by theologians and
ethicists on this question as it relates to other debates and much of
this can be equally applicable to the Iraq War. One of these is the
pastoral realization that the church has the responsibility to be a
voice for its sheep. As Shaun Casey states in his critique of the
Iraq War, “[t]he American people, whose sons and daughters will be
put in harm's way, deserve better [than the case made for war by the
Bush administration] from their public leaders” (94). I would add
that those same sons and daughters are not only owed justification
for going to war, but also a voice in the conversation.

The need for national conversation is most important for our “sons
and daughters” and their families that will end up making the
ultimate sacrifice. It is in this vein that Walzer shows his adept
casuistry:

The stakes are high when we debate whether to send soldiers into
battle, especially when we send them to intervene in someone else's
country. Leaders and ordinary citizens need to worry about, argue
about, even fight (nonviolently) about what to do. And when they
worry, argue, and fight, they will cite examples just as I have done
in this book and they will use the terms of just war theory – more
justly than tyrants do, because they will respect the disagreements
of their fellow citizens. (xvi)

Walzer may be idealistic in assuming the mutual respect of
disagreeing opinions, but his accent on the importance of
conversation is significant. He later goes on to stress the important
role that this national conversation has in making the case for war.
While American troops are, as of now, unable to practice selective
conscientious objection, they still have the right to exercise their
displeasure of selective wars in other ways – some of these include
voicing their opinions in the national conversation.

Since this country is founded on the “consent of the governed,”
it is also likewise necessary that troops should (nominally) approve
of any military conflict. Walzer thinks “[t]he need to seek [the
troops'] consent (whatever the form in which it was sought and given
or not given) would surely limit the occasions of war . . .” (29).
Yoder follows this same line of thinking when referring to the
“morally responsible citizen draftee” (47). He believes that this
concept finally came to the fore during the Vietnam war when
“[t]housands of young men refused to serve for reasons derived not
from absolutist pacifism but from their own conscientious, although
not always articulate, application of the just-war criteria” (Yoder
48). These troops revoked their consent and were willing to pay the
price for it.

This also raises questions of legitimate authority in the United
States. If the “consent of the governed” and “government by the
people” are assumed, then any decision to go to war without some
“broad consensus” could realistically be considered illegitimate.
Add to this the 20th century concept of going to war
without a congressional declaration of war and the case could truly
be made that the U.S. practices unilateral war declaration through
the power of the Oval Office. Returning a war declaration to its
proper place in Congress would necessitate a conversation and hold
Congresspeople accountable for their votes, thus raising the need for
national conversation and “broad consensus.”

While this country is also built on the idea that “all men are
created equal,” this concept can be dangerous when transposed to
the realm of opinion. This can result in an “egalitarianism of
opinion” where experts have no added weight in the conversation. In
responding to this concept, Walzer points out that “morality is
unimportant if all opinions are equal, because then no particular
opinion has any force . . .. No one can argue about justice and war .
. . without striving for an authoritative voice and laying claim to a
certain 'weightiness'” (288). In effect what Walzer is calling for
here is a better national education program in Just War tradition.
While Walzer's work is strictly secular, an obvious choice for
enactment of this program is the church. The pulpit may not be the
place for a sermon on Just War theory, but there are undoubtedly
other opportunities for education within the church.

While the church should not only provide education and a forum for
conversation, it should also maintain its own prophetic voice and
speak out in opposition to the official government position when
needed. A group of Catholic bishops as well as a group of one hundred
Christian ethicists responded thusly when talk of an Iraq invasion
first came up (Colson 72). The statement of the Bishops stressed the
importance that “decisions concerning possible war in Iraq require
. . . broad consensus within our nation” (Burghardt 18). Himes
follows this prophetic clerical voice to an even broader conclusion
when he states that “[w]hat is needed today is not a pastoral
letter but the searching public discussion of the early eighties that
was partly stimulated by the process of writing the 1983
letter [The Challenge of Peace]” (157). The prophetic voice
of the church should be a catalyst towards a broader conversation in
individual churches, between laity, in the academy, and in the press.

As Patrick McCormick notes, the church has often lost this prophetic
voice and adopted a voice of acquiescence instead: “American
citizens (who are overwhelmingly Christian) have consistently
surrendered their duty to critically examine their government's call
for war . . ., preferring instead to allow the president and Pentagon
to make such judgments and seeing themselves as obliged merely to
support the war” (118). Even Reinhold Niebuhr, famous for
renouncing his pacifism in exchange for a justified defense of
Europe against Nazism, believes that there should be a conversation
not over going to war, but over weapons systems. When referring to
the hydrogen bomb he said “[t]he fact that this [the development of
the hydrogen bomb] was done without public debate represents a real
threat to the democratic substance of our life” (235). One could
assume he would feel the same whether referring to the H-bomb or the
Iraq War.

On the subject of theoretical moral discernment in the church, David
Fredrickson offers helpful advice in his analysis of Pauline ethics.
Fredrickson uses three of Paul's epistles to lay out a framework for
discernment within the early church. For Paul, “free speech” was
an essential aspect of discernment. This translation is nowadays
layered with many different images (civil liberties, first amendment,
Founding Fathers), but Fredrickson points out none of these were
Paul's meaning. For Paul, “free speech” meant being able to speak
freely in a social setting without fear of recrimination or judgment.
Free speech is necessary for “politics” and “democracy” to
function properly (Fredrickson uses these words in an Ancient Greek
sense). For Paul, the early congregations he founded were analogous
to the Greek city-states. Every wealthy male should have a voice in
the city-state. Paul, however, took this a step farther, including
not just wealthy men. Fredrickson lists this as another key function
of free speech — the silent voices on the periphery must be given a
chance to be heard.

Free speech is the first essential ingredient for Fredrickson's
image of moral discernment. The second is a church-wide conversation.
Allowing all voices to be heard in the setting of a church-wide
conversation can be a powerful tool towards maintaining unity in the
church even amidst disagreement. This church-wide conversation can be
carried over in the national sphere where Paul's concept of “free
speech” could be honored and nurtured (as there is nothing overtly
religious about mutual respect in conversation). This practice could
easily negate the current level of binary dialog where each
individual is allowed to belong to one of two groups. Fredrickson's
advice would transform this into a plethora of voices in America's
pluralistic conversation where the “silent voices on the periphery”
are also included.

Conclusion

Examining
the Just War tradition and its relation to the Iraq War brings some
important, if disconcerting, truths to light. Just war criteria, no
matter how strictly enforced, are useless in the face of inaccurate
data. While these criteria are not simply a computational model that
spits out a solution, basing deliberation on inaccuracies will
usually not yield an accurate result. Attempting to have a national
conversation on the justification for the Iraq war when rhetoric
makes it difficult for citizens to subscribe to a position other than
“for the troops” or “against the troops” is difficult. At the
same time, the opinions of these very troops are hard to hear over
the din of the million dollar industry of the press. While there is
no easy fix for these issues, I have attempted to highlight some of
the greatest of the problems as they relate to Just War tradition in
the 21st
century. From these problems come some possible solutions, or steps
toward solutions, that can be enacted – some in the secular sphere
and some in the religious sphere.

First, ethics education in the military should not be limited to are
accented towards officers. Considering the extent to which
non-commissioned officers and enlisted are expected to make difficult
moral decisions in the heat of combat, ethics education is necessary
across the board. The program for this education, while possibly
maintaining its emphasis on virtue ethics, must at the least provide
a solid curriculum in case-study based ethical deliberation similar
to Walzer's approach.

The press could also help the situation by turning away from single
anonymously sourced reports and returning to multiple-sourced
corroboration. At the heart of this may well be the profit-driven
nature of the press in contemporary society, yet the fear of getting
scooped is no excuse for poor journalism. How this profit-driven
model of journalism can be used towards providing the public with a
better product (as opposed to a more entertaining one) is important
on every issue, not just war, and deserves more attention.

From an ecclesiological perspective, the church must remember its
responsibility to speak boldly when need be and reclaim its prophetic
voice as shown by Amos. This is true especially with regards to the
White House and news sources. The church should also embrace its
ability to serve as a nurturing environment for “free speech”
with a goal of moral discernment. These two suggestions, combined
with a catechesis of Just War tradition in the church, would go a
long way towards eliminating the fallacies of false dilemma rampant
in national conversation.

Lastly, war should not be a unilateral issue. The ability of the
president to initiate a seven year (or longer) war without appealing
to Congress for a war declaration is not only appalling, but
unconstitutional. While the president can rightly use the military
for a police action, returning the responsibility of going to war to
the Congress would force a national conversation and make those
voting accountable to their constituents.

The goal of the Just War tradition should be to make each subsequent
war more just than the last. Interestingly, to do this requires
well-trained standing armies. Standing armies are anathema to a
lasting global peace. As Walzer puts it, “[o]ne does not abolish
war by fighting it well; nor does fighting it well make it tolerable”
(45). Yet until the time comes that “the wolf shall live with the
lamb,” this tradition serves to reduce the amount of suffering
resulting from war by restricting both when it is fought and how it
is fought.

1This
does not imply that these are the only two types of military
training.

2The
editors included essays concerning the militaries of many different
countries, although the two on the U.S. are most salient for this
discussion.

3Here
I use “church” to broadly refer to the Christian church in
America. It could easily apply to a specific denomination,
organization, or individual congregation as well.